Snakes and Fairies


Delfinia entered the Party with a strong sense of foreboding. All the props were in place; the Banjo player happily wailing away in his corner, the other Tooth Fairies dispersing themselves toward the various barmen or to the ladiesroom to powder their noses and last but not least, Toby hovering nearby waiting to pounce. She wasn't yet entirely sure if she would give him a chance or not.

Everything was as it should be, as it had been for the last few weeks, if not months.
The trouble was deep in her. It felt as if she were a character in a play, doing her part but not really a part of it so much as a dissatisfied onlooker.
What was there to be dissatisfied about though? She pondered this mystery as she ordered her first Green Drink of the evening and watched the girls grind their hips to some inner rhythm not quite in sync with the music.

Granted, Wuss and she were seeing less and less of each other. That had to do with his work, he couldn't go into details though due to company policy so she left it at that. When they were together it was all fine though, so not much to worry about there she figured.

Perhaps it was her new hairstyle? Maybe the prem wasn't really her thing after all. She still wore her pink tutu, naturally. One had to keep up standards, it was almost expected of her. But she had always felt free to expose the world to her creative side through a new colour, or if she were feeling especially roguish, a new coupe. And as she read so often in all the magazines these days, a new hairstyle did most definitely inluence one's mental and emotional state, no doubt about it.
But no, that wasn't quite it either.

What then? She sucked on the straw of her drink and blithely ignored Toby's slithering, snake like movements right in front of her cornea. He was becoming increasingly vulgar and thus vaguely disturbing. Attempts to make her jealous by grinding himself against her friends were merely succeeding in putting her off.

To go back home, or not to go back? She had avoided answering this question for herself for the past two months but now she decided she must go back. Not only for herself (she was getting more and more nervy by avoiding it, so might as well just go, damn it) but also for Dove. Afterall; how could she live with herself if Dove were indeed to die? She could put off the confrontation with her true origins for ever, in the blind and pathetic belief that she would have Forever in which to change her mind and find out but unfortunately the realisation that Life was Temporary and thus Limited was becoming inceasingly real for her.

Her patience finally wearing thin with all this promiscuosness on the dancefloor, she slurped the last of her drink down and left, without so much as a backward glance or goodbye. (No more Green Drink for her; it was vile and made her feel distinctly sick).

On Regret and Heartburn

Jettisoned out by the cruel, cruel world Lord Huttington sat perched upon his throne and considerd his options.
Obviously, demanding a refund and immediate transferal back into his body below was out of the question. Death was, more often than not, a one way ticket.
He sighed. A man could still dream, couldn't he? His naive optimism, a character trait until now, had suddenly fled and left in it's wake was a dreadful sense that this was IT. The End of his Days had finally come, his number was up.
And he had so looked foreward to fullfilling his dreams. Now it was too late, it seemed...

He looked down from his piece of sky and saw that all was not well with the world Down Below.
This saddend him. It was the first time in his life that he realised he had only been living for himself, for the moment in hand, with never a thought as to the Bigger Picture. Now it seemed that the Bigger Picture was giving him a much awaited and well deserverd slap in the face. As if to say; here is what you could have done, if only. If only what though?
Well, for one; had he had the nouse at the time (when he could still make use of his body) he might have taken Matt up on his unbecoming behaviour. Being father to this twerp did lend him some authority after all. At least in theory.

Yes indeed, he was the supposed Turd Matt's mother, Jaccinta (she of the green garters) had mated with. Not a turd at all then, as it turns out, but a Prince temporarily intoxicated by her wicked sense of dress, which tickled his (until then) very proper demeanour. Bright yellow lycra stretch pants never recovered their innocence in his mind. Nevertheless, I digress toward the tempting realm of nostalgia here, which is never a good thing. Especially if the relationship is doomed from the start, such as this one was. One certainly does not entertain thoughts of actually marrying one's mistress. Unheard of, except in Very Bad Fairy Tales.

So, to conclude; a man is allowed his moment of insanity and he had certainly had his in the form of mating with Matt's mother. Unfortunately the result was not quite as one would have hoped for. Certainly the result was not and never would be, heir material and thus the decision had been made (soley by him, naturally) that Matt was not to know his True Origins. A hefty financial sum had helped cinch the deal in his favour.

Now he was left however, in Death, with a ningling sense that perhaps he should have done a tad more. A 'tad' more was not exactly thought out in his mind, obviously having no idea as to what parenthood involved. But surely he could have done something? Oh, the anguish of being dead. It almost gave him heartburn.
He did now sorely regret not having done anything about Matt's absinth dealings. He alone knew what the boy was up to, but fearing exposure as the Father of the little rascal, he had chosen to save his own hide rather than that of the entire community.
Now of course, he could see clearly that he had only succeeded in temporarily saving his hide. For in the end it seemed he had been bitten by the green bug, too.

He realised that the time was nigh to cease avoiding his responsibilities and thus decided, once and for all, to seek out that damned Totem in the Realm of the Trees. He badly needed some advice.

The Epitomy of Cool

The dusk was fast descending on the hamlet of Little Eaves. While Toby waited for the inevitable he sat calmly picking his nose (this was an almost meditative experience for him and one not to be disturbed) and hummed a little tune to himself in the proces. It sounded rather war torn and creaky but perhaps that was precisely the effect he was going for. One never knew with Toby.
He was a man of many guises and the latest seemed to be Punk with green hair, while simultanously trying out the long suffering Poet look. The result was something of an Irish leprachaun, but this didn't put off the girls at all. On the contrary. And while he hated to admit this, even to himself, the 'girls' were one of his main motives in life.
Of course, he tried out the excuse that really it was all a great By Product of being a Famous Doorstop, but actually it was THE motivating reason behind his sudden leap away from cosmetics design student to Doorstop at the Republik. Not to mention the main reason for founding his Band. It is a well know fact that girls drop their knickers for members of Bands. The days of his playing his lonesome organ in the empty church were so over. Thank goodness.

Anyhow, the Republik was not the worst place one could find oneself in of an evening, espcially in Little Eaves where the only other nightly forays consisted of listening to Old Dove snoring in the roses after one too many drinks or (her tragic demise from Spiritual Turtle to Inebriated Turtle shall be recounted at a later date. Have patience.)....well, let's just say there wasn't much else to do. So the fact that Matt the Mudvark had chosen this dead hole in which to establish his little business was nothing short of a miracle. And like most miracles, it wasn't questioned. Not even once. Face value is a much easier way of accepting things one doesn't understand.

So, people came from far and wide (well, they had to, didn't they? Seeing as hardly anybody actually lived in this far out, sleepy little place) to immerse themselves in the Going Out Lifestyle. This had become a popular pasttime in a Land where the previous excitement consisted of dancing around the Fairy Tree once a Moon. With the entire family).
Was it perhaps the Live Music interspersed with the occasional clumsy but satisfying Fight that did it? Or was it (more likely, seeing as the Music consisted of one very drunk Banjo player with a penchant for country style wailing) the funny coloured drink that made everything seem okay again? We shall never know....all we can know however is that there was shift taking place in society, in which family had become secondary to Coolness and Independence. Big terms that need Capital Letters.

Meanwhile, back to Toby and his fearsome green hair and like coloured boogies.
He was waiting for the night to get entertaining and busy, hoping that Delfinia would be back as she had been yesterday, all high and mighty pretending to ignore him ( he knew when a girl fancied him even if she herself was as yet unaware of this fact).
Lately, you see, she had taken to coming out at nights with the girls from her Gang. Liverwuss was forced to spend more and more time working away from home and this bored her ever so slightly. They were still very much in love but there does come a time when one has to seek one's pleasure's outside the realm of the Home. She had reached such a stage. Now, we are not talking un-monogamous pleasure's here, let us be clear about this. Just because a girl wants some fun with her friends does not mean she is immediatly up for a game of 'let us hop in the sack with Toby'. However much he may think so.

And there she was, resplendant as always in her Pink Tutu. The other girls just faded into non-existence when she was around. She emitted such an aura of come hitherness that he almost drooled at her feet.
Managing to restrain himself admirably though, he merely gave her an Ultra Cool smile and nodded them all in. The Party could begin.